


Arranged

by chronicAngel



Series: Leaves in the Summer [8]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Childbirth, Domestic Fluff, Drabble, F/M, Fluff, POV Third Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-30
Updated: 2017-09-30
Packaged: 2019-01-07 03:48:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12225132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chronicAngel/pseuds/chronicAngel
Summary: People say that arranged marriages are loveless marriages. But as she watches her husband hold their son for the first time, she knows that isn't true.





	Arranged

A few things come into focus as her senses come back to her: her eyes are filled with tears, but she sees her husband staring at her with wide, dark eyes, and brown hair surrounds the soft eyes and friendly face of Biwako Sarutobi as she tells Mikoto something she can't quite make out over the sound of her newborn's soft wails.

People say that arranged marriages are loveless marriages. But as she watches her husband hold their son for the first time, she knows that isn't true. Her skin is slicked with sweat and her eyes are still brimming with tears, but she can see the way he closely watches their little boy as though he is looking at something he can't quite believe and it fills her heart with more love than she thought was possible.

People also say that Uchiha experience emotion the strongest. When they fall in love, they tumble off cliffs, and when they hate, they carry the burning rage with all their soul. She wishes their son will never have to experience the second, leaning forward gratefully when her husband offers her his tiny body and brushing her lips over the wisp of black hair that curls over his forehead. He has a lot of hair, actually, for such a young baby, and she wonders if he'll grow into it or if he'll always be so... the only word that really comes to mind to describe it is "fluffy," and it makes her laugh.

Fugaku scowls at her.

She is left alone in the room with her husband and child as Biwako leaves to prepare the umbilical cord, and she leans her head onto Fugaku's shoulder in exhaustion when he sits with her as she holds her baby to her chest while he tries his best not to fall asleep, blinking his dark eyes up at them. His eyes are dark like her husband's, but they don't contain the hard, stone-like cynicism yet. Instead, they are almost warm, and they remind her of her own eyes.

She's surprisingly pleased by this fact, pressing her lips into his forehead in a tired, gentle kiss. When Biwako returns, she offers a small, plain wooden box to her husband, which he wordlessly accepts and rests on his lap.

Her fingers brush over their son's eyes and nose softly, and he closes them in response, letting out a quiet yawn and nuzzling his face tiredly into her chest. His tiny hands are curled into fists, his fingers clinging tightly to the silk fabric of her gown. It is a delicate white, with the lightest traces of a grey floral pattern on the fabric and the stark red of the _uchiwa_ symbol on the back. One of Fugaku's arms is slung across her shoulders, while his free hand tentatively reaches out to brush back some of the hair from his son's face. Her face is buried in the top of his head, and she happily breathes in the scent of him with her eyes closed in pure bliss. "Itachi..." She mumbles it against his skin, and she knows the official naming ceremony is not to take place until he is seven days old, but the name has been screaming at her from her dreams.

"My little weasel..." She mumbles afterward, before leaning her head back to look at her husband, still clutching Itachi to her chest protectively despite how exhausted she is. She thinks that she might never get tired of holding him, even as her eyes beg to fall closed and her elbows are already beginning to ache from the way she bends her arms so she can support his head. Fugaku helps her adjust her hold on him so his head lays against her chest and his small hands do not move from where they grip at the gown, white peeking out from between pink fingers.

Fugaku watches her quietly for a moment, observing the way she interacts with their child, then rests his head calmly against hers. She continues to coo at him, to mumble and mutter sweet nothings into his tiny ears and occasionally pause to inhale the way that he smells; she swears that she could breathe that smell for the rest of her life. Her husband is more subtle about it, but she can catch him leaning in every once in a while (he pretends that he is simply checking the baby's breathing, as complications are not uncommon in Uchiha births; she lets him get away with this small lie). When she can't keep up the facade of total consciousness, he pulls back, his eyes running over her face in what she knows is quiet affection, and she allows her face to split into a small smile. Her husband is not an emotional man, but his eyes show the contentment his words will not. "You should rest." It isn't really a suggestion, but she nods along anyway.

Apparently, they come to this agreement just in time. Biwako comes back now, telling them that Fugaku can see her again in the morning and that the rest of the mother is important, scolding her husband and leading him out of the room with as much mercy as she would show her own young children; Asuma is fast approaching ten, and his brother has just reached jōnin. She laughs at the surprised, indignant expression on her husband's face as he is ushered out, and then allows herself a moment to enjoy being alone with her son.

"As long as I live, I won't let you go, little one... That's a promise." It's the last thing she says before she closes her eyes to sleep.


End file.
